


The Work of an Australian Angel

by makingitwork



Series: Chase/House [19]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: 16 year old Chase, 36 year old House, Abuse of Authority, House is kinda a messed up hero, M/M, MILD - Freeform, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex, Underage - Freeform, Wilson is worried, abusive, bow jobs, church, drunk mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House dates Maria Chase, she's beautiful, stunning, gorgeous-</p><p>but her son...now...he's something else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Work of an Australian Angel

Maria Chase, was beautiful. 

Man, she was stunning, no wonder she was a model, with long cascading blonde hair that hung down her back, vibrant blue eyes, tall and slim and perfect. House was a little surprised when she had whispered into his ear at the bar that she wanted a good hard fucking. Now, don't get me wrong, Gregory House doesn't have confidence issues, he knows how awesome he is, but this woman, this being of beauty, did seem a tiny bit out of his league.

That didn't stop him from taking her back to his place and fucking her into the mattress, she didn't make much noise, apart from throaty moans, but she came hard, clenching around House tightly.

It wasn't an exclusive relationship- if you could even call it a relationship. They both slept around, but from time to time, House would call her, Maria would call him, and they would fuck at House's apartment. He knew she had a son, didn't know anything about him. He knew her ex-husband was Doctor Rowan Chase, so obviously, she had a thing for Doctors. It was one Friday afternoon, when his phone rang, and her beautiful, more American than Australian accent sang to him, saying he should come to her house right now, she was in bed waiting for him.

She didn't sound drunk, which was amazing in itself, she was nearly always at least a little tipsy, but that didn't stop him from revving up his bike and driving to her house, which he'd never seen before. It was huge. Perfect, the things out of a magazine, with high white walls, glass ceilings, a pool out back beside a Jacuzzi, everything neat and clean with large gardens. No doubt she had stuff working for her, which was confirmed when the door was opened for him by an old butler. He nodded, looking around. He didn't know the layout of the house, but he looked at a marble pillar with a silver staircase and decided that bedrooms were normally upstairs. 

There were three doors on this landing and another staircase, which House chose to ignore for the sake of his leg. One door was a bathroom, one was plain, and another had a poster on it, of Iron Man. House assumed that was the son, and opened the third door, to see Maria, spread out like a vision and waiting for him, she smiled coyly "Get over here, Greg," he smirked at her.

"Gladly." 

The next morning, he woke up early, at 6:30am, and he threw on his clothes in no hurry, and pottered downstairs. Maria was a very heavy sleeper, she wouldn't wake up till late in the afternoon. He walked into a large kitchen with glass doors that spread out onto the garden, and a large woman with a kind face wearing white beamed at him "What would you like for breakfast, love?" She asked cheerily, and House sat down on the counter, trying to hide his surprise for how pleasant the staff were. The sex with Maria was great, but she was a bitch. 

"Pancakes?"

"Coming up," she beamed at him, and started to make them. 

"Berta?" Came a voice from somewhere- the open plan messed with the echo- "Have you seen my Latin book? I can't find it anywhere," and then into the kitchen stepped a boy. He was about 16, with floppy blond hair, curled slightly into his forehead, striking sea blue eyes, sun-kissed Australian skin, and his accent was more pronounced than his mother. The boy, who House knew was the son, didn't notice him. House was...struck, but how alike to his mother he looked. Both beautiful, except the boy was lithe, with lean muscle from youth and surfing, probably. He was wearing a very smart, tailor made pair of trousers, and a stark white shirt, tucked in and all buttoned up, except for the top three, which he would button up later but for now, it gave House a delicious view of his collar bone. The boy wore a silver chain proudly around his neck, the pendant on the end, no doubt expensive, was a cross, with Jesus Christ on it. 

"Yes Robbie," Berta chimed "I put it in your bag last night, sorry for the confusion,"

"Oh," his shoulders slumped in relief, and he shot her a dazzling smile "That's fine then, I sho-" he turned, and that's when he saw House. The teenager shot Berta a confused look, which she just shrugged at, so Chase stepped forward, cocking his head slightly "You're one of my mothers....guests?"

House nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Berta set out of him. 

"And you..." Chase rubbed his forehead, confused "You stayed the night?"

"Nah, a magic genie sent me here from Afghanistan."

The sarcasm did nothing to the kid, who only nodded, eyebrows still drawn together, he swung open the fridge glancing around. "I'll make you something, Robbie," Berta offered, pouring the pancake batter onto the pan. "Bacon won't take too long-"

"Thanks, Berta," Chase smiled at her "But I'm late. Father Mcguinely's having me read the scriptures today," he pulled a smoothie out of the fridge, unfastening the lid and chugging it quickly. He closed the fridge, and tidied everything away. "Oh yeah, and you don't have to work this evening," Robbie reminded, catching sight of his reflection in the metal fridge, and he hurriedly did up his top buttons "Mother's going out, and I'll pick up some pizza, you deserve a break." Berta smiled at him gratefully, and House realised now why the staff were so happy. They didn't work for Maria, not really. She only forced them to be there, and on the odd occasion make her something, but she was nearly always out. Chase was in charge of them, and he was kind. Of course he was, House rolled his eyes, he was going to a little Catholic School, and he looked like an angel. 

"Your mother was a good fuck." House called as Chase swung his satchel over his shoulder and slid open the glass patio doors to leave. Berta froze, and Chase stiffened. House watched interestedly, as Chase turned around, a tight smile on his face

"Anything else?" he asked with forced politeness.

"Yeah," House took another sip of his coffee "Does she let people do it in her backdoor?" Okay, he was being a jerk here, but indulge him, he's curious about the messed up dynamics of this family. 

"Sir," Chase said gently, clasping his hands, and this time, the smile was more deceiving than forced. Like he had a trick up his sleeve "As long as my mother has never been intoxicated while you've slept with her, there are no problems. But if she was been, there are definite consent issues to talk about." He stepped forward, eyes flashing dangerously, his voice dropped into a warning hiss "She may not have sounded drunk last night, but she was high. And you just took advantage of an emotionally unstable woman." Berta tried to hide her smirk, and House's mouth went dry. "Does she let people do it in her backdoor?" Chase repeated, mock frowning "I'm sure you could ask her in court." And then he walked out, just as the sunrise finished.

Berta placed a plate of pancakes in front of him, and House looked up at her "Is he being serious?"

Berta chuckled "No," she beamed "But you should have seen your face." And then she wandered away.

Huh. House thought, stuffing his face full of pancakes, kid's pretty smart. 

...  
...  
...

House started spending more nights at Maria's house, simply because the chefs made him good food and got him whatever he wanted. Right now, he was lounging on a white leather sofa, watching General Hospital reruns, while Maria was snuggled into his side, sipping wine and painting her nails. 

The front door opened and into the living area came Chase. He was still in his catholic boy uniform, with the silver chain around his neck, bag on his shoulder, his eyes were wide and blue. "Mom?" He frowned, looking around nervously "W-what are you doing here?"

"It's my house, Robbie." She snarled, and Chase nodded, stammering

"O-of course I-it is, but I thought you had a shoot down in California-"

"It was rescheduled," She looked up at him "Why do you even care? I have a guest here," she gestured to House who smiled brightly, but Chase didn't even look at him, didn't even acknowledge him. "Go get mommy another glass of wine," she held her glass up for him, but Chase stiffened, shaking his head. 

"How much have you had to dr-" lightening fast Maria was up, and she smashed her wine glass into the side of Chase's head, where the pieces cut into his temple, too deep to be safe, and blood streamed down his cheek. He cried out, clutching his face and backing away from her. "Mom," he whispered, "Stop this, it's okay-"

She held a piece of jagged glass, and pressed it into Chase's throat, House stood, eyes wide. But she didn't kill her son. She whispered "Go get me and Greg, another drink." She spoke slowly, as though he were slow, which was ironic because House knew he was quick.

He nodded shakily, diving out of her reach and rushing for the kitchen. Maria smiled, dropping the glass as though nothing had happened and sat back on the sofa. House stayed standing, frozen, eyes fixating on the blood and glass on the ground. Chase was back seconds later, two new wine glasses in his hand, which he placed on the table in front of them, blood falling into his left eye now, and he dashed back to the kitchen. House mumbled something about getting them some snacks, but she ignored him, and he hobbled to the kitchen, just in time to see Chase dash out of the door.

House followed him.

It was easy enough, the boy was smart enough to walk, not run, so he didn't look suspicious, and he kept to the shadows, head down, so people wouldn't see the head wound, the Church was very close, and House hid in the shadows of the large hall as Chase walked up the middle of the aisle, and fell to his knees, hands clasped. "Father," he whispered. Father Mcguinley looked down and gasped as he saw Chase in the empty church. He rushed for bandages and gauze, gently picking shards of glass out. 

"Robbie," he whispered, shaking his head "Another of your mothers boyfriends?"

"Yes," he lied through gritted teeth "They didn't mean it, they were drunk on our Lord's blood." He winced as the priest started dabbing soaked antiseptic cotton balls along the wound, "When can you accept me into the Seminary?" He whispered desperately "I don't wanna go back,"

"Robbie," the priest looked truly conflicted "I wish I could," he cupped Chase's face, cradling the jaw, and House watched, not really understanding why he was jealous of the miniscule action. "You're too young. You have to be 18 for permanent residency, you know that, I'm sorry," he took out a bandage, and rather expertly stitched up the cut. House knew that the Priest had probably done this before. Probably on Chase himself. "Oh, Robbie," Father Mcguinely whispered, as he saw the tears sparkle in Chase's eyes "Spend tonight in the Church, claim sanctuary in the holy walls," 

"Okay," he nodded, wiping his eyes, winced as his thumb brushed over the bandage "Thank you, Father," Mcguinley nodded, looking torn again, before he disappeared down the darkened, ancient hallways. 

"You shouldn't lie in a Church," House called, limping out, Chase looked up, but didn't seem surprised to see him. House pointed his cane in the general direction of where the Priest had gone "Why don't you tell him your mom's a nutcase?"

"She has connections," Chase said weakly "She'd get out of anyone helping her. I have to look after her,"

"Well you're doing a bang up job."

Chase let out a choked whimper of despair as the words hit him, and he clasped his hands tight in front of him, still kneeling before the statue of Mary. House felt a horrible feeling of guilt build inside him. The kid was doing his best. He was taking himself to school, running the staff, threatening the people his mom slept with and watching how much she drank. He was protecting her the only way he knew how. 

"Chase-"

"I'm Robert," the boy frowned "Why would you call me by-"

"It's what Doctors do," he shrugged "Besides, Chase is a far better name than Robert," the golden boy lifted his lips at that slightly, and the guilt eased. But then it came back again when Chase's tongue ran over his bottom lip subconsciously. The boy was already on his knees, and he couldn't look more delectable. Hair fumbling onto his forehead, with the white bandage peeking out. Blue eyes dark and restless like the sea, in the dim lighting of candles. Wearing the perfect little catholic outfit, with specs of blood on the collar. He looked like he'd just been dropped from heaven, a wingless angel, laid out vulnerably, just for House. "Christ," he blasphemed "I wanna do bad things to you."

Chase blinked owlishly "Bad things?" he asked innocently, and oh yeah- this is an Australian Angel, who's devilishly naïve. 

He's underage. His conscious screamed, a conscious that sounded suspiciously like Wilson. Damn Wilson. "I should go," House whispered but he made no move, in fact, he stepped closer "Man...I should really...go..."

"I don't understand," the 16 year old confessed "What do you want me to do?" House let out a groan, shaking his head

"I'm gonna taint you, fallen angel," he whispered. Chase just stared up at him, and House was in front of him now, running both hands through his hair "You know what a blow job is?"

"...Oh," Chase squeaked, but he gave a shaky nod "You want me to..." House nodded and Chase looked around, voice dropping to a whisper "Here? In the house of God?"

"Guess I'm kinky like that," House whispered, dammit, damn everything to hell. He was going to prison, then he was going to hell. Wilson appeared in his mind, stern and angry looking. But House ignored him, because suddenly, there were fumbling fingers on his belt, and he glanced down, and he could see through Chase's clumsy hands, that the boy was hard. 

At least he wouldn't be in hell alone.

His mouth was hot, and wet, and oh god, this was delicious, the Virgin Mary looked down on them, but her eyes did not burn fire, they did not burn at all. She looked down at them with an ever present smile gracing her face. He sucked curiously, but he had natural skill. His tongue swiped over the tip, and he took about half of the long, thick member into his mouth. House could barely breathe, looking down at this sweet, sweet angel. Chase was looking back up at him, asking for approval with his eyes.

"Good boy," House whispered, nodding "Good, good boy," and Chase moaned around him, vibrations shooting up the muscle, and House came without a warning, and Chase swallowed it all, pulling off, and breathing heavily 

"Did we sin?" he whispers, and House nods, collapsing into a pew. "Woah..." Chase stands on shaky legs "Why aren't we allowed to do it if it feels so good?"

If House were a younger man, he would have come again just at those words. 

...  
...  
...

"This is...insane." Wilson whispers, shaking his head. "House, your lying has gotten out of control."

"I'm not lying, you twit," House rolls his eyes, limping down the hospital corridors, he stops in front of his office and gestures inside. Chase stands politely when he sees them. Wilson stares in shock.

"You weren't..." he walks into the office, as though the glass may be deceiving him, but there he is, the 16 year old House had told him about. The 16 year old who he was in a relationship with, and was apparently about to come and live with them. He was wearing black trousers, with a smart white shirt, with golden hair. "You're Chase?" The boy nodded, wringing his hands but he stepped forward, and held one out to shake

"You're Wilson?"

Wilson nods blankly, and shakes the boy's hand, before turning to House and flicking his forehead "Are you insane?!" He shrieks "You wanna go to prison?!" Chase cringes and House covers Wilson's mouth. 

"His mother died two days ago, he's coming to live with us. Are you okay with that?" House asks firmly, but Wilson turns to look at Chase in disbelief, he steps forward, admiring the fading scar on his temple, he places a hand on Chase's jaw, and the younger one nuzzles into his touch like he's been starved of human contact. Wilson likes collecting stray dogs, and Chase reminds him of one, but now he knows that House has been...oh god...sleeping with this underage boy, he wonders how much he's been taken advantage of, he asks in a quiet voice 

"Do you feel safe with him?"

Chase nods "My mother died trying to kill me. He saved my life."

Wilson breathes out a shaky breath "It's a 20 year age gap-"

"Jimmy," House rolls his eyes "Love knows no age,"

Wilson sighs.

...  
...  
...

10 YEARS LATER

Chase has had his medical degree for 2 months. He searches through the adds in the paper and frowns. Wilson smiles, ruffling his hair. "Just apply to our hospital."

"I can't," Chase protested "Then I'll never know whether he hired me because I'm good, or because he loves me." Wilson half smiled

"Does that matter? You're a good Doctor, Chase." 

"It matters," Chase urged, setting down the newspaper.

"House wouldn't hire you because he loves you," Wilson says seriously "He takes things seriously, give him some credit."

...  
...  
...

"I was wondering," Chase whispered, panting and sweaty from sex "You need an intensivist on your team, and I need a job..."

"Huh." House frowned, lazily drawing patterns on his fallen angels back "Is it ever lupus?"

"No, House," Chase fights a smile "It's never lupus."

"I'll give you a two month trial run," he says professionally "I want a pass rate of over 96% or your gone," 

Chase breathes a sigh of relief, and nods "Love you," he whispers

"Yeah, yeah, angel. Love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? :)


End file.
